


You've Got Me

by PeterPage



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: ;), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, gay vampires - Freeform, just bros holding each other through the lonely night nothing to see here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27093598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeterPage/pseuds/PeterPage
Summary: I've been working on this thing for a year and a half and the only reason I finally finished it was bc there's been a surge of Vicente/Janus content and its got me feeling tender once again.(OG title for this is 'When Your Bro's Wife Dies And You Gotta Be There For Him' but thats too long and too silly. But it was funny at the time.)
Relationships: Janus Hassildor/Vicente Valtieri, mentions of Janus/Rona
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	You've Got Me

He kept telling himself it was for the best. Rona hated her condition and in the end it killed her. But that was what she wanted. She would have rather died than live on as a vampire. He missed her every day she laid in a coma, hidden away in the Chamber of the Lost, but at least she was alive, more or less. He had hope that one day someone would find a cure and she would wake up to live the rest of her life like she should have. But now that she was dead he missed her more than he thought was possible. It consumed his every thought. Seeing her, her face pale and gaunt, her body starving, hurt him more than he could bear. But it was over. She was gone and nothing could change that. He knew she was happier now.

A gentle gust of cool night air blew at the back of his neck. He didn’t recall opening the window. He turned in his chair, half expecting to see a vampire hunter climbing through. At this point he wouldn’t have minded if a vampire hunter killed him, he was too distraught to care about living. Skingrad would just have to find a new count. Instead, he saw a familiar face, pale and gaunt yet very much still living. As living as vampire could be anyways. He stood there, pleasant looking as always, his hair a little longer, but otherwise, he looked exactly the same.

“Vicente,” he greeted.

“Janus.”

“What brings you here? You didn’t even bother with a letter.”

“I came as soon as I heard,” Vicente said, closing the window quietly. “About Rona. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t much feel like talking about this. It was all he’d talked about for the past week and he’d worn himself out emotionally. He took a deep breath that seemed louder than it was in the quiet room.

“When was the last time you fed?” Janus asked. “You look like you’re starving.”

“I admit it’s been a while. The Brotherhood keeps me too busy to go out.”

Janus went to his desk and rummaged through a drawer.

“Yet you managed to find the time to come all the way down here.”

He produced a bottle of blood and shut the drawer. Vicente had already made his way halfway across the room, Janus meeting him in the middle. He handed him the bottle and he uncorked it, chugging it down hastily. It had been longer than he remembered, apparently judging by how fast he drank. He pulled the empty bottle from his lips, panting for breath.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

“You looked too pale. I feared you might be planning to put yourself into a coma as well,” Janus grumbled, taking the bottle back and placing it on the desk.

Vicente’s face softened sadly. That sounded like an accusation, as if he were starving himself just to make him feel bad about his wife.

“No, I’m not planning on putting myself into a coma.”

Janus frowned.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just…don’t want to lose anyone else. Especially you.”

Vicente put a gentle hand on Janus’ arm, rubbing his thumb over the soft fabric of his fine coat.

“Is there anything I can do for you? I can only imagine the grief and stress you’re under.”

“I don’t know, Vicente,” he sighed. “This all happened so quickly. One second she’s talking to me, finally, after fifty years of silence. The next, she’s dead.”

Vicente looked up at him, his red eyes understanding.

“It feels so much different than it did before, at least she was there and I was lonely up here, just waiting, now she’s gone and I’ve got nothing to wait for. I’m just an old man with no one left in his life.”

“You’ve got me.” 

At that small, powerful assurance, Janus felt a wave of relief spread through him. After all these years, after the spats they’d had, Vicente still cared very much about him. Janus sighed loudly through his nose.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

“Of course, of course,” Vicente said softly.

They were both silent a moment and Janus turned himself towards the window, refusing to look Vicente in the eyes. The chill of night still blew through, the curtains waving gently.

“You’re a good friend you know,” Janus said finally.

He hoped his voice hadn’t betrayed him, but it was obvious Vicente heard the tremble in his last word. He stepped closer and put a hand on Janus’ back.

“I know.”

Janus had held himself together for so long, fought so hard, but every man had his breaking point, and Vicente had pushed him over it with that soft touch of his hand. With the care in his voice. The dedication through their fifty years of friendship, and sometimes perhaps more.

He felt guilty sometimes, remembering what he and Vicente had done a few nights, the hushed acts of intimacy in his bed while his wife suffered her nightmares, hidden below the castle. Sometimes he felt awful about it, as if he had just pushed her aside for another when she so obviously needed him. Like he was unfaithful. In every other way he was faithful to her, kept her sheltered, watched over, he still loved her through those fifty years, more than anything else in the world! But there were some nights where he just needed someone to lay in bed with him, and Vicente had happily taken on that role.

Janus covered his face with a large, rough hand, his shoulders sagging and his mouth twisting into a pained frown. Vicente knew this body language all too well. He guided Janus to his bed, sitting him down and sitting himself next to him.

His soft yet heavy sobs weighed his body down, hardy able to keep himself upright. Vicente pulled him close, tucking his head into his neck as he held him, allowing Janus to cry. His friend was so strong, unimaginably so, and it pained him to see such a mighty figure like him crumble like this. Vicente wrapped his arms around him, resting his cheek on the top of his head, rubbing his back gently up and down.

“It’s alright, Janus, I’m here,” he cooed, his voice so soft, so assuring.

“She’s gone, Vicente! For good!” Janus sniveled.

“I know, my dear, I know.”

Janus pulled his face out and sat somewhat straight, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“I hardly had her for a minute! She was so upset and tired, she collapsed before the vial could leave her lips, I didn’t even get to tell her I loved her one last time before she died!”

This outburst brought on another wave of tears and he didn’t bother to hide it this time; his pale face was flushed and ruddy, making him look almost sick, and his tears fell from his cheeks straight down into his lap.

Vicente reached out to take his face in his hands, wiping his tears from his cheeks with a pointy thumb. Janus lifted his head just enough that his eyes could meet his; oh, he looked so lost, so alone and helpless like this. Vicente sighed and gave him a small, sympathetic smile. The poor man was exhausted.

“Come now, take off your robes, you need to rest,” Vicente instructed, standing from the bed.

Janus harshly wiped the rest of his tears from his face.

“Rest? Morning isn’t for at least another five hours,” he said, though he complied and began to remove his robes.

“You can afford to waste those five hours. I can tell you haven’t rested well in a long time. You need it.”

He took off his boots as well, crawling sadly into his bed to lay on his side. A large, empty space spanned before him and the loneliness was excruciating. His chest heaved once but he caught himself before he let out anymore indignant sounds. He would have begged Vicente to stay with him had the other not already begun removing his own boots.

Vicente slid onto the bed, scooting closer to him, and Janus closed the distance quickly, laying his head on his chest while Vicente wrapped an arm around his side. Satisfactory almost, to have Janus, the larger man of them two, laying on him, and not the other way around.

“I assume you want me to stay?” he said half-teasingly.

“Yes,” Janus whispered.

Vicente stretched his neck down to place a soft, sweet kiss at the top of Janus’ head, then pulled him closer. Janus sighed loudly and closed his eye, snaking an arm around the others’ front to hold tightly.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

Vicente slipped his free hand into Janus’, lacing their fingers together.

“Anything to ease your pain, if only for a little while, my dear Janus.”

Sleep did not come easy, if it came at all, but his company made a world of difference.


End file.
